Winging It
by CBGalatea
Summary: Steph takes control of her life as only she can...making it up as she goes. Babefic
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my computers and my cat...and I think the cat pretty much owns herself.

Thank you Carmen and Beth for your wonderful Beta-ing and encouragement :)

Winging It

By: Cheri

It was raining. Not just any rain either, monsoon rain. It was the kind that made walking outside, an under the sea type of experience. Considering the pollutants in the Jersey air dancing crabs weren't entirely out of the question. Sensible people were staying in tonight and watching the _Back to the Future_ marathon on Channel 13. I, of course, am not a sensible person. My name is Stephanie Plum, bumbling bounty hunter extraordinaire. Cool job you might think, glamorous even. You would be sadly mistaken. Don't get me wrong; I love my job…most of the time. Just not when I'm covered in garbage, or when my cars get blown up. And of course, topping the list at the moment, when I'm hiding in a prickly hedge in the middle of a cold wet April night waiting for my skip to pass out drunk so I can drag his belligerent ass back to the pokey without getting shot at, insulted, or covered in food product. My skip weighed about 300 pounds and was an unrepentant alcoholic. This could take a while.

At least it gave me time to think. Sometimes it seems like all I've been doing lately is thinking. It started about six months ago with a wake up call from the most unlikely of sources, namely my grandmother. I'm sure stranger things have happened, but at the moment I can't think of any. Anyway, I've come up with several conclusions. The first I've already acted on, namely the inescapable truth that my on-again-off-again relationship with vice cop Joe Morelli was going nowhere. I could never be what he needed and he could never accept me for who I am. I finally broke up with him for good. It's probably the most mature decision I've ever made. Unfortunately, he didn't take it seriously. Every time I've seen him since, he's either tried to restart the old arguments or entice me back into his bed. After over two years of staving off the temptation of Cuban Sex God pheromones, I'm finding him disturbingly easy to resist.

This brings me to my second conclusion. I want Ranger.

OK, that might seem like a no-brainer. Every woman wants Ranger, at least all the breathing ones. Maybe non-breathers too, wouldn't surprise me. The man is beyond hot. He's like the Latino Batman. Also, I happen to be in love with him. I've known for a while, ever since that whole Scrog mess. I even know he loves me too. Why aren't we together you might ask? Well, it's complicated. Until recently I was still playing out my adolescent fantasy with Morelli. I would have given that up a long time ago had Ranger not repeatedly sent me back to him with trite little phrases like "my life doesn't lend itself to relationships" and "my love doesn't come with a ring". I've come to the conclusion that we're both relationship retarded and the only way for us to come to terms is for one of us to take the initiative. How sad that it has to be me, the queen of denial. I even, rather uncharacteristically, have a plan. I'm going to take what Ranger's been not so subtly offering, basically, love, acceptance, mind melting passion, and support without price...and just not clue him in to the fact that we're in a relationship. He's a smart man; he'll figure it out eventually despite his chromosomal deficiency. Now if only Ranger would get back from wherever he is. Probably liberating a third world country. Aside from being eager to jump start my plan, I miss him.

In the spirit of living life on my terms and preferably not get myself killed in the process, I decided to let the Tank teach me a few self defense moves. Nothing fancy, I didn't turn into a Kung Fu master and I still don't like my gun, just a couple tricks for getting out of sticky situations so I didn't always have to be rescued. The whole damsel in distress thing gets a little old after a while. Tank was happy to teach me, since he and Lula have been together we've actually become friends. He's actually a decent conversationalist once he decides he likes you. Lula's a lucky woman. Their relationship took off faster then anyone could've predicted, three months ago she moved into his apartment at Rangeman, in two weeks they're getting married. She asked me to be her Maid of Honor. We blubbered and cried until Vinnie came out of his office to complain about the noise. Ranger is supposed to stand up with Tank. I asked what would happen if Ranger didn't get back in time, Tank said not to worry and wouldn't answer further questions on the topic. Sometimes I think the Merry Men keep secrets just for the fun of it.

Lula still works at Plum Bail Bonds, ostensibly filing but mostly gossiping. She seemed a little offended when Connie asked if she was quitting after the wedding. Apparently Lula was about as keen on being someone's housewife as I was; which is to say not at all. For once Vinnie kept his mouth shut. Actually, he's been nice to Lula ever since she and Tank got together. Vinnie is a lot of things, slimy and excessively fond of water fowl come immediately to mind, but he isn't entirely stupid.

Unlike me apparently. As my Grandpa Plum used to say, even dogs have enough sense to come in out of the rain. Did I already mention the rain? Yeah well it's a lot of rain, and me without a jacket. My mom would be so proud.

Sarcasm aside, Ranger would actually be kind of proud. Well, he'd probably shake his head about the whole jacket thing but, more important to him, I was carrying my gun AND it was loaded. Seriously. And I brought backup. Sort of. Lula was paranoid about catching pneumonia so close to the wedding so she decided to wait in the car parked a couple houses down. But she was with me in spirit anyway, and well, if anything went really wrong, she could always run over the bad guys with the Buick. Big Blue's good for that sort of thing.

My skip was one Mr. Harold I-swear-to-god-this-is-his-real-name-I-checked-twice Skank. His friends call him Harry. Snicker. At least that's how Connie introduced him when she handed me the file. He was wanted for soliciting a prostitute and assaulting a police officer. Normally a bond this high would go to Rangeman but, since Ranger's been out of town for a while, Vinnie decided to give it to me rather than pay the higher Rangeman rate. Unfortunately, due to a once in a lifetime shoe sale at Macy's last month, my debt was at an all time high, as was the mountain of FMP's spilling out of my closet. The shoes give me a warm tingling feeling, the debt not so much. So, I let my duck-loving relative threaten me into taking the file against my better judgment. This leads me to my current soggy predicament. But damn those knee high leather and satin boots were worth it.

A car pulled up while I fantasized about my shoe collection. Two dark figures slid out, men, judging by their size. Further detail was impossible to distinguish through the rain; it chose that moment to kick the deluge factor up another notch. Something about them set off my spidey sense. They let themselves in without bothering to knock. I palmed my cell phone just in case.

No lights came on to mark their progress through the house. Suddenly they were in the dimly lit living room, still unidentifiable due to bad lighting and worse weather. Oddly, my skip was still clearly visible. He greeted them with cringing subservience, chattering with apparent nervousness as he moved the room's meager furnishings out from the center of the floor. He rolled back the ratty area rug to reveal a strange circular marking burned into the much-abused old wood floor. I stood behind my trusty tree friend to get a better view, but could only make out a vague circular shape with squiggles all around it. I suddenly felt cold to my core. Don't ask me how a chunk of circle can look obscenely wrong, but this really did. Harold stepped into the circle. Instantly the room filled with billowing red-tinged smoke.

I watched the room silently for I don't know how long, trying to figure out what to do, if anything. Fire doesn't generally give off red smoke and besides there didn't seem to be any flames or panicked people. Maybe they were practicing a magic act or something. Perfectly plausible if you ignored my screaming instincts. My indecision was resolved for me when a different sort of scream tore through my consciousness, this one coming from the house. I made it about two steps before tripping on an unseen object, smacking my forehead on the edge of the concrete porch. Stars danced before my eyes. I really need to stop leading with my head.

The smoke was mostly cleared by the time I reached the sliding glass doors. The recently arrived car backed out at a surprisingly sedate pace, all things considered. The rain let up just as they passed my former hiding place, allowing me a brief glimpse of the driver before they drove out of sight. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, with pale skin stretched over strangely reptilian features, accentuated by his shaved head and cold dead eyes. Eyes that were looking right back at me. Shit.

Time slowed as they passed. Or maybe it was just the car slowing, hard to tell. Once they were finally gone, I turned back to the now clear room. Instinctively my hand flew up to cover my mouth, like a starlet in a low budget horror film right before she screamed bloody murder. I was more likely to throw up. I fell gracelessly into a nearby lawn chair and hit #1 on my speed dial, in my stupor forgetting his "in the wind" status. It went directly to voicemail. Still without thinking, I said the only four words my mind could latch onto in its current state.

"Ranger…I need you."

Somehow leaving that message centered me enough to remember the number for 9-1-1.

Twenty minutes later the quiet residential street was alive with police, EMTs, and nosy pajama clad neighbors. Flashing blue lights gave the scene a sadly familiar nightmare quality. In the middle of the chaos, I sat on the tailgate of a spare ambulance (since the Slayer incident they always send at least three ambulances when my name's attached to an emergency), wrapped tight in a musty smelling blanket and sipping occasionally from a thoughtfully provided hot chocolate. Eddie, a good cop inexplicably married to my cousin, Shirley the Whiner, sat beside me patiently taking down my statement. He was a good friend, going above and beyond the call of duty by not only bringing the hot chocolate but also refraining from mentioning the bet results changing hands in my periphery vision. I was just getting to the part where the mysterious men saw me when everyone went silent. I refused to look up, instead focusing on a divot in the tar by my feet.

"So they casually backed out of the driveway, like they hadn't just left a house full of funky red smoke…" I trailed off as familiar ratty sneakers stepped into my field of vision, standing on my fascinating divot.

"I suppose you have a good explanation for all this?" The wearer of the sneakers asked angrily. Apparently Morelli was not in one of his better moods. Big shock there.

Eddie looked at me uneasily. "She's in the middle of her statement…"

"She can finish it later."

I cut off further objections with my hand on his arm. "It's okay Eddie; I might as well get this over with. Besides, that's pretty much it. I looked in the glass doors and saw..." I made a vague gesture to the swarm of crime scene people. Eddie nodded in understanding. Some things don't really need to be put into words. He gave Morelli a menacing look as he left us in semi privacy, stopping just out of normal conversational hearing distance but close enough to butt in should it regress to the usual shouting match.

I decided to wait Joe out. Obviously he had something to say and wouldn't leave until he said it. I really wanted to keep the scene to a minimum. My mother still wasn't speaking to me from the last public confrontation. The silence was oppressive as I continued to stare at those sneakers and tried to ignore the death glare attempting to burn a hole through the top of my head.

Joe Morelli, otherwise known as Supercop and the best ass in Trenton, seemed to be a wee bit pissed off. I tend to have that effect on him. When we were kids, he represented the forbidden fruit, the boy my Mom absolutely forbid me to talk to. As teenagers, he literally charmed the panties off me behind the Canolli cooler at the Tasty Pastry. I think I hit him with the Buick more as a form of literary criticism for the bad poetry he wrote about me in the boy's room at Mario's Sub Shop then revenge for my lost virginity.

Somehow despite all the history, or more likely because of it, we started dating a few years ago after I cleared his name when he was FTA. We couldn't stay together for more than a couple months at a time without having a messy public breakup. The Burg loved it. As a friend pointed out not too long ago, it was an unhealthy pattern. Due partly to his advice, partly to a recurring nightmare involving a diaper clad Morelli and a minivan, and mostly to sage advice from my Grandmother of all people, I finally broke up with him for good six months ago. Unfortunately, he doesn't seem to be sharing in my epiphany. After the first couple months of blessed silence, during which I went through my full "getting over him" routine, sadly down to a science due to my always-tragic love life, he started hinting that it was time to kiss and make up. At first I was nice about it, calmly explaining that it really was over, that we just weren't good for each other, but we could still be friends. Yada, Yada. He took that to mean "try again next week". I tried to be patient but yeah, really not my strong suit. A few weeks ago we ran into each other at Pino's and had the mother of all public fights, ending with him accusing me of whoring myself to Manoso and me dumping beer on his head and stomping out. My mother has been ironing ever since.

"How do you always end up in the middle of this shit?" Of all the obnoxious...I channeled my inner Ranger and just managed to keep my cool. Someone had to be the adult. I made the mistake of looking at his face and sighed at the tell tale vein throbbing in his temple.

"It's not my fault. I was doing my job." At his snort I couldn't help but add, "Not that it's actually any of your business. I believe Eddie's on this case."

"Damn it Cupcake of course it's my business! How are we ever going to start a family if you get yourself killed in one of these asinine stunts?"

I stared at him for a silent count to ten.

"Joe…" I started in the tone of one speaking to the mentally deficient, "We are broken up. We are never going to 'start a family'. Accept it and move on."

More veins became apparent and a rather unhealthy red stained his tightly controlled features. "You weren't like this before HE started sniffing around."

I sighed again, the shocks of the night and repeated conflicts with Joe were really wearing me out. The 'he' Joe referred to was Ranger, my friend, mentor, and every woman's fantasy. I never cheated, but we did have one perfect night together during an off again phase. It was the best night of my life. I hoped for a repeat in the near future. Not that Joe needed to know that. Ranger was undeniably a factor in the breakup but really, my feelings for him would never have been an issue if there wasn't something fundamentally missing from my relationship with Joe. Six months of no social life gives a girl a lot of time for reflection. "No Joe, this isn't about him, it's not about anyone except you and me. Mostly, it's just about me."

"Don't lie to me! I've seen the way you look at each other when you think I'm not paying attention. Did you think I didn't notice that you always run to him when you get in over your head and help him regardless of your own safety? I know where you stayed when the Slayers were after you and EVERYONE KNOWS ABOUT THE GOD DAMNED ALLEY BEHIND VINNIE'S OFFICE!" My ears filled with a sound like the ocean as the blood rushed from my face. I don't know why I was so shocked really, it's not like any of that was a secret. I guess I assumed no one noticed. Sometimes I surprise even me with my super hero-esque denial powers. While I perfected my landed goldfish impersonation, he took deep breaths until his color faded from 'heart attack purple' to merely 'extremely pissed red'. Eddie swept in before I could recover enough to respond.

"Okay kids break it up. Steph I think you can go home now, we can finish your statement in the morning." So saying, he put an arm around my shoulders and guided me through the gathered crowd to Big Blue. Lula wasn't there, probably got Tank to pick her up when the cops showed. Despite starting a new life, cops still made her edgy. Most of the people we passed were already on cell phones relaying the latest episode in the life of Stephanie Plum. I should get my own reality TV show, Steph the Bounty Hunter. Wait, I think it's been done, except with mullets instead of Jersey hair.

"Thanks Eddie."

"No problem, just remember this next time we need a babysitter." With these parting words, he winked and disappeared into the crowd.

Much later that night, I was sprawled in my usual sleeping position just on the cusp of sleep when I felt it, the change in the air that heralded an oncoming storm. I knew from experience that this particular storm brought passion and heat instead of wind and rain. The man in black had arrived. He stood silent, invisible in the shadows, like he so often did, a dark guardian watching over my slumber. Tonight was different though, his barely contained passion set the air on fire. He was here to make good on his promise. God I've waited so long. I kept my eyes closed savoring the anticipation. As I felt him draw closer those words I usually had such a hard time saying fell naturally from my lips.

"I love you…"

And suddenly my eyes were open, staring out into my dark bedroom, my declaration hanging in the air mocking me. God freaking damn it. Every single night for the last six months, ever since he left town just after the Scrog incident, I had the same dream. Whoever said 'out of sight out of mind' obviously never met Ranger. He really did ruin me for all other men the rat bastard. My life sucks.

"Babe?"

"Gaaah! What the…Ranger? Jesus you scared the shit out of me!" I held one hand to my chest, trying in vain to keep my wildly beating heart inside it.

"Got to be more aware of you surroundings Babe." I could feel him almost smile in the dark.

"I was SLEEPING!"

"You were talking."

My eyes just about bugged out of my head. Oh my God what did he hear? Okay, time to play it cool.

"Um, what was I saying?" I asked with only a slight squeak in my voice.

He didn't answer but I could just make out his white teeth grinning in the dark. It reminded me of a Cheshire Cat.

"I have often seen Ranger without a grin. But a grin without a Ranger! It's the most curious thing I ever saw in all my life."i

I didn't realize I had said it out loud until I heard his surprised laugh.

"Only You Babe" Before I could decide how to take that he continued. "I got your message."

Right, the whole witnessing a murder thing. I sighed, way too tired to go back over it tonight. Or rather this morning, I corrected myself as I caught my clock's digital readout in the corner of my eye. Ugh, 4:37, no wonder I was quoting Lewis Carroll. I didn't get back to my apartment until after 1. Something nagged at the back of my brain, something I really needed to tell Ranger, but, with the brief burst of adrenalin wearing off, I couldn't put my finger on it.

Instead of answering his unspoken question I asked, "When's the last time you slept?"

His silence was eloquent, his slouched posture even more so. I rolled my eyes and patted the bed beside me.

"We can go over it in the morning…well the later morning." I paused and in a softer voice finished. "Come to bed Ranger, we both could use a good nights sleep."

He froze for just a moment before crossing the room and sitting on his side of the bed. Yes, I still thought of it as his side of the bed even though we'd only slept together a handful of times. He removed his boots, belt, and weapons with typical efficiency. I might have drooled a touch when he pulled his painted on black t-shirt over his head man style, while revealing mocha latte muscles gilded by moonlight. I held my breath, hoping he would remove his last article of clothing but, sadly, he kept his pants on. Oh well, it'll be fun taking them off him later anyway. He got into bed and wrapped himself around me, settling us into our normal sleeping position. No relationship my ass.

Then he kissed me, driving the caustic thoughts right out of my head. It was a light kiss, affectionate with an edge of banked passion. It really shouldn't have touched my heart. But it did. He pulled back with a questioning look and brushed his thumb over my cheek. It came back wet. Apparently I was crying.

"Babe?"

I shook my head as I brought my tears under control. "Sorry 'bout that. Um, it's been a long day." This was the truth, well, part of the truth. He was still giving me the concerned and demanding answers look. I tucked my head under his chin; I was feeling a little vulnerable.

"I missed you okay? Geez. It's like the ESP Spanish Inquisition." I muttered peevishly. I'm not very good at the whole 'talking about my emotions' thing, makes me cranky. His chest shook under my cheek. He better be crying…no wait, scratch that, I couldn't deal with Batman crying. Too Twilight Zone. Maybe a seizure…oh hell who was I kidding. At least my place in his budget's secure.

"Only you Babe, only you." I sighed and settled in. My pillow was back to its usual steady movement, lulling me back to sleep. Just as I drifted off he spoke again. "I missed you too Babe."

I smiled and succumbed to sleep, content.

i Paraphrased from Alice in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll, said by Alice to the Cheshire Cat


	2. Chapter 2

Winging It – Chapter 2

I lay on a long, deserted boardwalk soaking in the warm sunlight, looking fabulous in a sky blue bikini that somehow hid those pesky extra 5 pounds. I heard footsteps behind me but I wasn't worried, nothing bad could touch me here. A pink slushie looking drink appeared above me complete with a tiny festive umbrella, held firmly in strong mocha colored fingers. I tipped my head back to check out my waiter. It was Ranger, and he wasn't wearing any clothes. God I love this place. He quirked a brow and gave me his 200 watt sexy smile.

"Thought you looked too hot out here Babe."

Suddenly I felt his warm lips on my neck. Funny I could have sworn he was standing mere moments ago…who am I kidding; he's the Cuban Sex God. Being in two places at once is the least of his probable abilities. OMG I just gave myself a hot flash. No wait, can't take all the credit there. His teeth scraped against the underside of my jaw driving a moan from my throat. I was on fire. My hand tangled in his hair as he found that sensitive spot at the junction of my shoulder and neck. His lips shifted lower…

A phone rang.

The dream shattered. Crap. The first thing I noticed was the tingly Ranger warmth still surrounding me. I opened my eyes. Melting chocolate brown eyes stared back at me. He smiled in that oh so sexy way of his and I completely forgot about the phone. A wicked grin overtook my sleep-dazed face. I pulled his body to mine and kissed him with all the fervor, longing and pent up frustration of over six months of celibacy. After an infinitesimal hesitation, he returned my passion in equal measure, fast sinking us both beyond the point of no return. The phone started ringing again but I ignored it in favor of pushing him onto his back and pealing off my nightshirt. He was already shirtless so I ran my fingers down his washboard abs to the top of his cargoes, enjoying the muscular ripples that sprang from my touch. I popped open the button as I bit the side of his neck playfully, remembering from our long ago night together how very much he liked that. He didn't disappoint, growling and reversing our positions with a combination of grace and strength only he could manage. His hands were everywhere, driving me to the brink without actually touching ground zero. The man has talents. I wrapped my legs tightly around him and pulled him in for another mind-blowing kiss.

Ranger froze.

Before I could do more then open my eyes in confusion, he rolled away, taking back possession of his tongue and various other appendages in the process. In one fluid move he landed on his feet beside the bed, a gun appearing in his hand pointed at the bedroom doorway. If I weren't already so far beyond hot and bothered that would have done it for me. Hot damn that man can move. It took about ten seconds for the source of this rather disconcerting turn of events to show himself. Joe freaking Morelli. Unbelievable. I wish I could say I was ruefully amused by the irony, even 6 months broken up he got in the way of a Ranger induced orgasm, or even that the deja vu was intellectually interesting, but really I just wanted to throw a shoe at him for interrupting my wakeup call. The jerk. Without taking my eyes off him or dropping my shielding blanket I felt around the floor by my bed for the boot I knew I left there. Ranger raised a brow. Damned ESP. At my look he lowered his gun but left it ready to fire. Good.

"You can shoot him if you want." I told him. I was probably kidding. He arched his brow. Apparently he wasn't sure either. No matter, I was on a roll. "I'll even help dispose of the body. I hear the Delaware's a good place for that sort of thing."

"I think that might be a little illegal Babe."

"Only if we get caught." I answered after a moment of thought. He smiled all 200 watts. I think I'm getting the hang of Ranger humor.

"You never disappoint." The feeling was entirely mutual. My body warmed again, starting with my heart. Of course that's the moment Joe felt the need to remind us of his presence.

"You know it's a crime to threaten a police officer."

I rolled my eyes. Some people just don't know when to make a strategic retreat. My mood dropped from bliss to bitch in three seconds flat.

"Speaking of crimes, mind explaining why you felt the need to break into my apartment?"

"I tried calling but you didn't answer. After last night..." He sounded kind of sincere under all the hostility. Maybe I should have felt at least a little bad about worrying him but considering I was denied seconds away from my first social orgasm in six months, not to mention how long it'd been since the night Ranger ruined me for all other men, he was lucky I couldn't find my boot.

"Did it occur to you that I might be sleeping? Or otherwise occupied?" Very occupied. Better to leave that unsaid.

"Yeah I can see that, Cupcake. Let me guess, it's not what it looks like?"

I looked down at myself, still flush and dressed in a blanket, then at shirtless Ranger. He had a red spot on his neck that bore an uncanny resemblance to a fresh hickey. I turned on Joe.

"Actually, this is exactly what it looks like." I stated in an admirably calm voice. "Now state your business and get the hell out. You're putting a serious damper on what promised to be a very good morning."

His face started turning funny colors again. Neat trick, he could make a fortune in the circus. 'The Amazing Chameleon Man' or some such. The mental picture made me smile, which was a bit of a bad move since it ratcheted his color up another notch.

"You know what? Forget it. This is Eddie's fucking case, he can tell you." So saying, Morelli spun on his heel and stalked out. As he reached the door he paused for a parting shot. "Just remember, when he breaks your heart I won't be here to pick up the pieces." The door shut with a good deal more force then necessary leaving an awkward silence in its wake.

I snuck a peak at Ranger's face. His blank expression was back. Damn, playtime's over. I wonder if it's too late to shoot Morelli. Would extreme sexual frustration be an acceptable legal defense? Maybe if I got an all female jury and I showed them Ranger… This bears looking into. I was just about to boot up my laptop to consult the Great God Google when that oh so sexy voice distracted me.

"Babe"

He sounded amused. I noticed that I was standing in the middle of my bedroom almost naked ignoring a shirtless Ranger… who was apparently still talking.

"Looking a little distracted. Want to tell me about last night?"

For a panicked moment I thought he was asking about what I might have said before I woke up the first time. Before I could blurt out anything embarrassing, he ESPed my confusion. Or maybe it was just really obvious.

"The phone call?"

Right. The whole messy, nasty, dead guy thing. Funny how Ranger's presence put that completely out of my mind. I opened my mouth to say something witty, or at least somewhat coherent, but instead all I came out with was, "I need coffee."

The corner of his lips kicked up in his trademark almost smile. I immediately lost my train of thought again. Luckily, he never had these problems.

"We can pick some up on the way to Rangeman." I'm pretty sure my face was a study in confusion. "Less interruptions there."

My body heated yet again. I should really get that looked into, it can't be healthy. My obedient march to the door was disrupted by the rare sound of Ranger laughter.

"As much as I like the view Babe, you might want to put something on. It would be really inconvenient to have to shoot all my men."

I looked down at myself. Still almost naked. Generally I'm a lot more self-conscious than this. I never wandered around naked in Morelli's house. There's something downright strange about being this comfortable around the living embodiment of sex. Something else to think about later. Life was a lot easier before I gave up the whole denial thing.

We rode to Rangeman in the usual silence, Ranger in his zone and me too busy guzzling slightly too hot coffee to talk. We had both dressed in a hurry. I looked like crap; most of my outfit previously resided on my bedroom floor. He of course looked beautiful, like always. It really wasn't fair but, since I had the better view, I wasn't going to complain. He parked in his usual space and ushered me to the elevator. Two black SUVs pulled in behind us. I guess we were being followed. One of these days I need to learn how to spot a tail. It's possible they followed us all the way from my apartment, which means that they were probably waiting outside during the whole Morelli scene. If not before. Something to possibly be embarrassed about later. I was surprised when we got out on the 5th floor.

"I thought we might want to bring the whole team in on this." My mind flooded with dirty, dirty images and I was about to tell him I really wasn't that kind of girl when I realized he was talking about the other situation. That murder thing. Right. I snuck a quick look at him from the corner of my eye and caught a slightly startled expression. Oops.

Note to self: try to keep mind out of gutter when around people with ESP.

We made it to the conference room without further incident. Inside was a sea of black. Well, black clothes. The dozen or so men in the clothes ranged from almost albino blond to Tank's dark chocolate skin. Color differences aside, there was a certain uniformity in their battle-hardened bodies and blank expressions. These weren't the paper pushers or low level grunts that I met during my short tenure as the littlest Rangeman, these were the real badasses, the mercenaries and ex-special forces and god knows what else of Ranger's private army. I recognized Tank of course and a couple others but by and large these were strangers to me. I probably should have been afraid; the existence of this group no doubt fell into the if-he-told-me-he'd-have-to-kill-me category. Plus I didn't need Ranger to tell me these weren't all nice guys. Instead I felt oddly touched that he trusted me this much. Sometimes I don't even understand me.

Ranger led me to the front of the room and positioned himself half a step behind me with his hand on my neck, sending out a clear message even I could interpret. He was claiming me as his woman. Not just was I safe in that conference room, but, judging from the meaningful nods aimed at the man behind me, I just gained an entire platoon of protectors. I turned to Ranger with wide eyes. Exactly who was he to these men? The king of mercenaries? His blank face didn't change but I got the distinct impression that I'd have to wait for answers. Maybe I was learning ESP. Or maybe it was obvious. Whatever. I turned back around and realized the entire room was staring at me with frankly unnerving intensity. Guess it's right to business then.

So I launched into my story again, unconsciously giving a more detailed account than I gave to the boys in blue. My black clad audience didn't move, not even an occasional fidget. I'm not sure they were even breathing. I paused once to draw what I could remember of the burned floor circle on a convenient chalkboard. I just got to the part Morelli interrupted before when a realization blindsided me. I never told Eddie about seeing the 'suspect'. Or the 'suspect' seeing me. Crap. I must have stayed silent too long, the hand on my neck tightened almost imperceptibly, bringing me back to the moment.

"I saw them. Well one of them clearly, the other was shadowed. When they were driving by...we made eye contact. He was probably 30-something, white, shaved head and overall reptilian looking. His eyes were cold, even through the rain they looked dead. I thought I was dead for sure but they just kept driving. I stumbled to the patio doors; I knew something terrible must have happened. The room was just...red. Everywhere. Blood I guess. Even the light was red. And the skip, Harold, was dead. Really dead. His chest was just...open and I think things were missing. There was so much blood..."

I stopped my increasingly incoherent monologue as Ranger's arms came around me, the hand from the back of my neck circled around to the front as the other slid around my waist, holding me firmly against his body and stopping the trembling I hadn't even noticed. Guess I wasn't as cool about the whole thing as I thought. The combination of Bulgari and warm Ranger steadied my nerves like nothing else could. I cleared my throat and continued.

"Well I'm sure you'll see the photos. I called Ranger but he was in the wind so I called the cops." That sounded more true than right but I continued anyway. "And that was about it. I should tell Eddie about seeing the suspect, it kind of got left out of my statement."

"Why?" Ranger asked from behind me. I was hoping he wouldn't.

"Got interrupted." I knew I didn't need to go into further detail. The increased tension in his body boded ill for Morelli. I wrapped my arms over the top of his and he relaxed marginally. He wouldn't do anything rash but he was still pissed. Good enough, I was pissed too. And speaking of Morelli... "Eddie has some info on the case. We really should contact him."

Around us his men stood like so many statues, awaiting orders. Again I wondered how he came to have such power. I felt him nod and Tank nodded back. ESP in action.

"You know your assignments. Be back here tomorrow at 0900. Dismissed." Tank's voice vibrated through the room like a foghorn. The men reacted instantly, standing impossibly straight before filing out in an orderly fashion. In a surprisingly short time, the room was empty save for Tank and ourselves.

Tank walked up to us, stopping a respectful meter away. Ranger still hadn't let me go, not that I was complaining.

"Lula's going to want to know what's going on. How much can I tell her?" he asked with unusual stiffness. All this military formality was making me fidget.

"The minimum to keep her safe." Ranger answered in a crisp tone. Tank just nodded and left the room.

My head was spinning with questions and half formed conjectures. This went far beyond the scope of simply protecting a murder witness. Not to make light of it, but I'd dealt with far worse seeming situations without having Ranger call in his posse. The Slayer episode comes to mind. Then again, I'd always wondered why they left me alone after Sally mowed down the local chapter. Seemed like something that would just piss them off more. Hmm...and there was the Stiva incident but that went out of control so fast... how did he find me in that cupboard? That whole story about waking up some poor old lady from the record office at gunpoint always seemed off to me. And of course there was Abruzzi, the sudden victim of convenient suicide. I knew that was bogus but never let myself examine what it meant. So what did it all mean? I knew without thinking that Ranger went to extremes to protect me, why was the revelation of his brute squad so surprising? And why did he show them to me now? Something was not right, not right at all.

Damn it I need a donut.

Sadly, no donuts were forthcoming as Ranger steered me into a chair and leaned against the table beside me, arms crossed in the classic pose of mercenaries and GQ models everywhere. I really couldn't decide which he resembled more at that moment. It just doesn't seem fair that so much sexiness be built into one person when there are sad, unattractive lumps like Albert Kloughn wandering the world. But then again, my sister seems to like Albert well enough, if calling someone their Snuggly Ooglekins can be construed as a sign of affection. I hold serious doubts on that score but hey, it's her life. Funny, when we were young she was always held up as the example of what I should aspire to be. Now she's on just about the same rung of the social ladder I am, but I'm having much more fun. Well aside from my amazing ability to attract dead bodies and psychos. Still, at least I'm not stuck at home ironing Albert's whitie tighties. Ewww.

Coffee appeared under my nose, interrupting my thoughts. All for the good. I looked up to see Ranger's amused face. God I hope I didn't say any of that out loud. Nothing to do but forge ahead. I took a quick guzzle of coffee to jump start my brain.

"So," I started in a conversational tone, "Why're you so edgy about this case?"

"Babe?" He sounded startled. Guess he didn't think I noticed.

"You had guys following us from my apartment before you knew I'd been seen. In fact," My eyes widened as intuition hit. "You probably had guys guarding my apartment all night, even before you got there. And even with the building covered, you went from making love to me to shoot the intruder mode the second the door opened. You still have that hyper aware look and we're in the most secure place in Trenton. Not to mention the Brute Squad, I know they're not your normal employees. Most of them didn't look like the sorts to work for anyone. I'm guessing you called in some favors. So what gives?"

Ranger looked as shocked as I'd ever seem him, eyes wide, eyebrows way up, and mouth slightly agape. No one should look that good doing a landed goldfish impersonation. I savored the moment. I stealthily reached for my camera phone to immortalize the image but alas, he recovered too quickly.

"I sometimes forget how good you are at putting things together."

He didn't say anything else. I decided to wait him out. It seemed to work when he did it to me. Generally I don't have the patience but I had my coffee to keep me occupied. I tried not to squirm as the silence lengthened. Finally, after what seemed like a couple years but was probably ten minutes, he continued.

"We've run into these people before, Babe. They make the Slayers look like a playgroup. We've tracked them for a long time and caught a lot of the members but the leader; he's like a mirage. Whenever we get close he just seems to disappear. And he knows we're after him. He knows I'm after him. The fact that he struck not just in Trenton but one of your skips...it could be a coincidence; with your luck it's entirely possible. But I'm not comfortable with coincidence, not when the price of being wrong could be your life."

"So they're what, a super gang? Mafia? Ra's Al Ghul?"

"They're a cult to an Aztec god."

"...Seriously?"

He just gave me a look. Right. Not the kind of thing Ranger jokes about.

"Well that's odd."

His lips quirked the slightest bit, a first for this conversation. Glad I'm earning my place in his budget. The almost smile faded quickly, leaving the blank mask again.

"Odd or not, they'll kill you if they get a chance." He hesitated. "I'd feel a lot better if you stayed here until we get this cleared up."

Wow, for a man like Ranger that was the equivalent of a love sonnet. I actually got a little misty as I nodded. I might be a tad impetuous, but I'm not suicidal. I like my insides just where they are thank you very much. He pulled me to him and kissed my temple.

"What about my stuff? And Rex?"

"Already moved into the 7th floor apartment."

I thought about objecting but really, I wasn't fooling anyone. Ranger probably thought it was because of his shower gel. He'd learn differently soon enough.

My stomach grumbled loudly.

"Want to head upstairs Babe? Ella said she'd fix a special breakfast once she heard you were here." No need to ask me twice. We headed to the elevator. It didn't escape my notice that Ranger was in full bodyguard mode every step of the way. All this caution was making me jumpy. I needed a donut, preferably a half dozen.

As the elevator door closed I had to smile. Despite murder, mercenaries, and marauding exes, this stealth relationship was off to a pretty good start.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing...sigh

Warning: Pastry Induced Indecency

Winging It - Chapter 3

My first thought as I walked into the immaculate 7th floor apartment was that Ella must have ESP. Stacked in a neat, geometric pile on the breakfast bar between Rex's aquarium and a fruit bowl, were chocolate frosted donuts. A bunch of them. I looked around for an identifying bag. One should never eat donuts without knowing their source. Well, unless you're really hungry, or had a really bad day. But not recommended. Finding none I looked at Ranger.

"Where'd she get the donuts?"

He looked at me like I just might be crazy. He grabbed the top donut and took a bite. Sullying the temple, I guess he was having a rough day too. "She made them."

"MADE them? Ella makes her own donuts? She can do that?"

"Babe? You're getting a kind of scary look in your eyes..."

"Ella is magic."

"She's just a good cook Babe"

"She MADE donuts." He just didn't understand. I carefully selected one of the chocolate topped pastries, taking the one exactly opposite the empty space Ranger left to preserve the balance. Slowly, reverently, I brought my prize to my lips. I bit down, closing my eyes as I savored the moist, cake-y texture. The flavors of fried pastry, chocolate frosting, and Bavarian cream mingled in my mouth and I know I moaned. Ella is a god. Something shattered nearby. My eyelids fluttered open to take in a dazed looking Ranger standing in a pool of coffee and pottery shards. There was only one mug left on the counter. Oops.

Ranger stalked towards me like the sleek predator he tried to hide beneath his civilized veneer. My hormones did a happy dance. I swallowed my first bite of heaven and quickly took another. Something told me that once he reached me breakfast would be over. Well at least the food portion. He looked like he might eat me whole...and I would enjoy every minute of it. I wonder if he'd let me eat the rest of this donut while he...oh my god mini orgasm. He was only a step away; his eyes darker then I'd ever seen them, when a buzzing cut through the intense silence. I watched, fascinated, as he stopped short, closed his eyes, and did some sort of breathing exercise before answering his cell phone in an almost normal voice. I took the opportunity to take another bite of pastry heaven. God these are good. Dark eyes skewered me with an intensity I could feel like a physical touch. He did the breathing thing again. Guess I was enjoying my breakfast a little too much.

He finally growled "Give me five minutes." And closed his phone with more force than necessary. He moved in closer just as I swallowed. He grabbed my wrist before I could take another bite. He pulled me in closer until our bodies melded together from knee to chest.

"Dios Babe, the things you do to me." Before I could think of a coherent reply, he covered my parted lips with his own. His kiss was rough, almost brutal but I welcomed it and returned his passion in equal measure. We couldn't get close enough. My free hand tangled in his silky hair. One of his hands cupped the back of my head, holding it at the optimum angle for ravishing. His other hand gripped my upper thigh, supporting my leg as it hooked around his thigh. I could feel him, every hard inch of him, lined up so perfectly with all of me. If we were naked he'd be inside me. The thought ratcheted my core temperature up another notch. We were fast reaching the point of no return. If we were less passionate, less intense, we would be naked already and fucking against the wall. As it was we couldn't seem to back off from each other enough to reach zippers. I was milliseconds from my first fully clothed orgasm when a loud pounding penetrated my happy sensual fog.

"Time's up." Tank yelled with malevolent glee. Or at least that's how it sounded to me. At that moment I didn't care that Tank was a mountain of a man or that he was about to marry my best friend, I wanted him to drop dead. Preferably on his own; but I wasn't above lending the grim reaper a hand. Ranger rested his forehead on mine and did that breathing thing again.

"We can't kill Tank; we need him to keep the rest of the troops in line." He seemed to be convincing himself as much as me.

"Sorry Babe, timing sucks. Got to meet a source. We'll continue this later." The last part sounded like a question so I nodded enthusiastically. Hell yeah we were continuing this later. A girl can only take so much sexual frustration before she goes nuclear, and I was fast approaching Chernobyl levels. Couldn't blame the man for his doubts though, this was usually the part where I ran like a scared little girl. I wasn't doing that anymore, but I don't think he got the memo. He'll figure it out eventually. We carefully disentangled with only a few, carefully muffled moans. Ranger immediately headed to the back of the apartment, presumably to regain his composure before he did something rash. I sighed and opened the door to let Tank in. I was bowled over by Lula instead.

"I never been in here. Can you believe it? Been living in this building for two months and never seen where the Wizard lives. Where's he at anyway?" Lula finally paused and took a good look at me. "Shee-it Girl, you lookin' all flushed and frustrated. Did we interrupt somethin'?"

I rolled my eyes and didn't bother to answer. Instead, I grabbed another donut and shoved most of it in my mouth without the previous reverence. Desperate times and all that. Lula's eyes lit up like Vegas on New Year's Eve. She grabbed one without asking, not that I could have objected with my mouth so full. She took a bite and froze. Her eyes slid closed and she made a sound that could only be described as a breathy moan. I didn't dare look at Tank, some images I just didn't need of my friend's fiancé. She finished licking the last of the frosting from her fingers then looked at me. I heard a groan from somewhere in the vicinity of the door. Poor Tank.

"Fuckin' A no wonder you look all hot and bothered. These donuts are the shit. Where'd they come from?"

"Ella MADE them."

"No way!"

"Yes way!"

"Ella's Magical."

"Amen"

We stood in quiet contemplation of the wonder that was Ella until Ranger came back looking absolutely drool worthy in street commando mode. Either the source was dangerous or the situation was worse then I thought. Or maybe he just knows how hot he looks all decked out in SWAT black and Kevlar. He was pulling his still damp hair into a ponytail as he walked. That man could shower faster than anyone I've ever met. Though he's been known to take slow and very very thorough showers when the occasion calls for it. My mind was so full of slippery wet images I involuntarily moaned when his body skimmed against mine.

"Hold that thought Babe." He whispered seductively. Like it wasn't already indelibly burned into my memory. Good in the shower didn't even begin to cover it.

"mmkay" Damn one of these days I'm going to strain something being so witty.

He chuckled, the wretch. "Should be back in an hour or so, try not to go too crazy."

"Try not to get shot." I replied with feeling. Ritual or not, I meant it.

He kissed me thoroughly then was gone, dragging a dazed Tank in his wake.

I looked at Lula, she looked back at me. We each took a bite of donut and closed our eyes.

"So..." She started oh so casually, "You and Batman a thing finally?"

I shrugged with my own practiced nonchalance, "Maybe. Just don't tell him, he gets weird about the word 'relationship'."

"What do you mean 'weird'? What haven't yo been tellin' me?"

I took a deep breath. There was actually quite a lot I hadn't quite gotten around to telling her. It wasn't that I was keeping secrets exactly...well maybe a little but mostly I just didn't know what to make of it. That man confuses me like nobody's business. Maybe it'll be good to get an outside opinion.

"Okay but this stays between us." I gave her my best I mean business look. She nodded and we hooked pinkies. Nothing says pact between girlfriends quite like a pinky swear. My secrets were as safe as I could make them. "You know me and Ranger have been dancing around each other since we met. It's like we have this uncontrollable attraction that just won't quit. All the touches, the kissing, it kind of escalated and well...we spent a night together a while back, during the Abruzzi mess. I think we both thought if we just got it out of our system...but we were wrong. Knowing made it so much worse. I think we both panicked the morning after, we just weren't ready. He told me to go back to Morelli and I agreed. Morelli was safe. But he said he'd be back in my bed if it was empty too long. He's said he loves me, several times actually, but always qualifies it. What does 'in my own way' MEAN anyway? He keeps applying pressure, but any time I even hint at a relationship between us he runs for the hills like a newly minted nun from a hip swiveling Elvis...young, sexy Elvis, from before he succumbed to sex, drugs, and peanut butter and banana sandwiches. Anyway, since I finally grew up and stopped being afraid, and since he probably hasn't, I'm going to take him up on his friends, lovers, and occasional cohabitants offer and just not tell him it's a relationship. Foolproof."

About two words into my ramble Lula started fanning herself vigorously but burst out laughing at the end. "You two are a pair. I never met two such messed up people. It's like fate. I'd say you should just talk to the man but I REALLY don't wanna see his nun impersonation. It'd totally ruin the Batman image."

I rolled my eyes but she was probably right. On all counts. I grabbed another donut and changed the subject.

"So...Has Tank told you what's going on?"

She gave me a look but answered with a so-so hand gesture. "He told me you done put your foot in somethin' big this time and we was on Defcon3 til further notice."

My eyebrows shot up to my hairline. Ranger didn't mention that part, though in all fairness it was probably a little hard to speak with my tongue down his throat. Still, it might have been nice to know. Something to bring up later, after I have my wicked way with him. A girl's got to have priorities.

"So what does Defcon3 mean exactly? Do we get body guards? Are we locked in?" Okay, I was starting to panic. Moving back into the 7th floor apartment wasn't really a problem, I mean really, even if I wasn't totally in love with Ranger there is Ella the donut god to consider. It would just be really nice to know what's going on. Really nice. Okay that's an understatement. I'd be climbing the walls already if it weren't for these dang chocolate inspired feelings of well being. Stupid Theobromine.

Lula shrugged. I guess Tank didn't get around to explaining it either. The Merry Men's love of secrets strikes again. Oh well, there'd be plenty of time to get worked up about it later. Like during Lula's bridal shower tonight.

"Oh my God! What're we going to do about..." I stopped myself mid sentence. The bridal shower was a surprise. Crap. I needed to have words with the Man in Black. Lula looked at me expectantly. "Erm the dress fitting? Don't you have one scheduled for four o'clock?"

Nice save if I do say so myself. Though I can't take credit for it, the dress fitting was actually a clever ruse my grandma came up with to keep Lula's schedule clear. Grandma Mazur is the wiliest person I know.

Lula looked a little worried. "We gotta call Batman. There ain't no way I'm walking down that aisle in a ill fitting dress. The bride's gotta look presentable you know what I'm sayin'?""

Every time Lula says the word "bride" she gets this funny look on her face, kind of like surprise but happier. I guess she never expected to get here from her former life as a ho. It's kind of like a Cinderella story, except she picked her own ass up out of the gutter. Prince Charming was more of an after thought, but a nice one. Sometimes I'm so proud of her I could cry. She'd slap me if I did though so I generally keep it to myself. I walked over to the phone and hit #5 for the control room. Hal's voice answered.

"What?"

Wow and I thought Ranger had bad phone manners.

"Hi! I was just wondering if Ranger was right there, I need to speak to him. It's important."

"He's not available."

Silence.

"Um can you tell him I called?"

He hung up. Apparently he's still pissy about the stun gun incident. Men are such babies.

I called Ranger's cell phone but it went straight to voice mail. Probably still talking to his source. I looked at the time, 2:54. The party starts in just over an hour, I'm so screwed. And sadly not in the good way. When my mother found out I was Lula's Maid of Honor, she not so subtly took over most of my wedding duties, including the bridal shower. I'm kind of grateful, weddings aren't my strong suit. I did manage to keep the bachelorette party a mom free zone. I got Grandma Mazur's help planning that. Should be a great time and we probably won't get arrested...probably. I was considering my options when the phone rang.

"Yo."

"That's my line."

"Sorry." I was distracted by Lula's complicated sign language. I'm pretty sure she was reminding me about the 'dress fitting'. It also might have been a warning about that new Mexican place on Roosevelt. I've never quite gotten the hang of charades.

"You need something Babe?"

My mouth kicked in before my mind could sensor it. "You."

"...Is this a booty call?" He sounded amused.

A deep male voice snickered in the background. Probably Tank.

"NO!" Maybe. Crap, need to stay on task. "I need to talk to you in person. It's important."

"In the garage now. Be up in five."

True to his words, Ranger and Tank entered the apartment exactly five minutes later. I timed them. Someday I'd like to find out how he does that, but then he'd probably have to kill me. Maybe it's better left a mystery.

Tank walked over to Lula and immediately started a whispered conference. From the looks directed my way the topic wasn't exactly a mystery. I saw Tank mouth 'booty call' before Ranger's broad shoulders blocked my view. Ranger looked amused, obviously aware of our interplay but ignoring it like the bigger man he metaphorically was.

Without a word I grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him into the bedroom, flipping off a laughing Tank without breaking stride. It's a Jersey talent. Once the door was shut Ranger pulled me close and kissed me like there was no tomorrow. And at that moment I didn't care if there was. We broke off when the need for air temporarily overcame our desire.

"You needed something Babe?" He asked smugly. I rolled my eyes and got down to business.

"We have a situation."

His body tensed. A lesser man would have started twitching. Got to admire that Special Forces discipline. Before he could ask I continued.

"Lula's surprise bridal shower is at my parents' house in less then an hour. Mom's been cooking all day. The girls are probably already there. If I don't get Lula there exactly on time I might as well forget ever having pineapple upside down cake again. And Lula would miss her party."

My eye was twitching like an old fashioned Morse code clicker. I think it was trying to send out an S.O.S. Lovely effect my family has on me. I caught a glimpse of Ranger's half smile before he urged my head to his shoulder. He rubbed soothing circles on my back with one hand and dialed his phone with the other. Impressive dexterity. Whoever answered didn't even get a 'yo'. I hoped it was Hal, the rude bastard.

"Secure the Plum residence...Should be several women there, more arriving within the next half hour...Call in everyone available, need a tight perimeter...Tight enough to protect Bombshell and Cannonball...Enlist Mrs. Mazur's help, she'll know who belongs there...Fine bring in Wolf to talk to her...Just do it. We'll be there at 1600."

He hung up with his usual abruptness. At least it's not just me.

"You're bleeding money again." I felt the need to point out.

He just shrugged. Apparently this fell under the 'no price' category.

"So...Bombshell and Cannonball?"

"Babe, you're recognized through most of New Jersey as the Bombshell Bounty Hunter. Plus it suits you, deceptively innocent and just waiting to explode." The way he said the last part gave it an entirely different connotation, enough so that I chose to ignore the reminder of my notoriety. I wanted to melt right then and there but there wasn't time, plus he didn't answer the second part.

"And Cannonball?"

"Tank came up with it, said she was all rounded and harmless until she got up momentum, then heaven help anyone who got in her way." Wow, put that way it summed Lula up perfectly. Tank was a poet in disguise, not unlike the man before me. Who knew tough mercenary types had such a way with words?

"If we're going to make it there on time you need to start getting ready now. There are some things you need to know but we can talk in the car." He reminded and left me to my preparations.

Thirty minutes later we were all piled into an extra large SUV, me and Lula seated quite comfortably in the wide back seat. Tank drove while Ranger rode shotgun in the style the term was originally intended, with his hand on his gun and his eyes scanning for any sign of trouble. We stopped at a light. Thus far the ride had been made in silence. Not exactly my definition of 'talking in the car'. I tapped the back of Ranger's head.

"So..." I broke the silence once I had his attention. "This cult, what's their shtick?"

His lips quirked at my terminology but he started without comment. "The cult worships the Aztec god of the underworld and sacrifices, Chalmecatecuchtli. Any other resemblance to Aztec beliefs and rituals is purely coincidental; these people wouldn't know the other twelve Lords of Day if the gods jumped them in a dark alley." The light turned green and we started moving again. He kept his eyes on our surroundings as he continued. "They believe their leader is the living embodiment of their god. Their sacrifices are made to him, when he can't be there in person they bring him the victim's heart as evidence of their devotion. Supposedly he feeds off the souls of their victims."

I had to interrupt. "When you say 'feeds off the souls'..."

"You don't want to know." Tank interceded in a voice that brooked no argument. He was probably right. I was getting queasy just thinking about it.

Ranger watched me with typical patience. At my 'the floor is yours' hand gesture, he continued. "We've traced their activities back over thirty years, when we believe the current leader came into power. They're subtle, adaptable, and somehow manage to stay below law enforcement's radar. Activity has picked up lately, we don't know why. But it can't be good. There have been rumors recently about an heir stepping up to take the leaders place. The heir seems to be as much a mirage as the current leader. The old leader will probably try to smooth the way for his heir by neutralizing the pursuit."

That didn't sound good at all. Lula spoke up for the first time since this lovely conversation started.

"What yo mean 'neutralize'? That jus' a nice way o' sayin' kill?" She asked with a stronger than usual street accent. A sure sign she's stressed.

For a moment I thought Ranger wouldn't answer. He's been known to ignore uncomfortable questions. We were turning onto High Street when he spoke again. "They haven't had a lot of luck trying to kill us in the past. I think they're trying a new strategy, going after something far more valuable."

Before I could formulate a coherent question, he pulled up to the curb in front of my parents' tract house. Black SUV's dotted the street, interspersed with the minivans and sedans of the shower guests. Black clad men stood on either side of my parents' front door like matching mercenary book ends. Several of their friends tried to look casual lounging against the side of the house and loitering on the sidewalk out front. Subtle. I'm sure the neighbors didn't notice a thing. Right.

I wonder how long it takes for the National Guard to mobilize. I really hope we don't find out.

One of the bookends nodded fractionally at Ranger. Apparently that was the all-clear. Ranger and Tank exited the vehicle with guns drawn and met at the passenger side back door, movements strangely in sync like figure skaters in a well rehearsed routine. They rushed us to the house, exchanging ESP laden looks with the bookends as we hurried in without pausing. In a too well timed not to be choreographed move, the men left me and Lula at the living room door with a gentle push and were gone like the wind, leaving us to face a room full of curious Burg women.

Maybe being gutted by a cult isn't such a bad fate after all.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Author's note: Thank you, Alf, for saving the Plum community from a semantically blond Ranger. Winging It – Chapter 4 I've never really understand Bridal Showers. I mean, everyone already met at the engagement party, if not before, and all the girls are getting together next week for the Bachelorette Party. Most people either mail gifts for the couple or leave them on that specially assigned table at the reception. How many last-get-togethers-before-the-wedding do there really need to be? It's not like Lula's going to disappear in a poof of faerie dust the second she says, "I do". If I ever get married again...full body twitch...If I ever get married again, I'll just elope and skip the whole lot. But since this was Lula's wedding and someone had to lack of foresight to tell my mother, okay that might have been me, we're stuck with it. The fact that I brought enough mercenaries to take over a small country just adds an extra level of eye twitching to the festivities. My eye twitches any harder and I'm likely to sprain something. Can you sprain your face? How much would THAT suck? On the bright side, it just might get me out of answering the endless stream of questions about my borrowed army. Maybe I could fake it? It's not like I don't have plenty of practice...but that's another matter entirely.

The questions eventually wound down. I'd like to think it was my persuasive abilities, but more likely it was Lula's dire warnings about pissing off the Man in Black. Whatever works.

We were finally allowed to sit down. Lula got the seat of honor, my father's recliner. I got the footstool beside it. At least it wasn't the floor. My mother presented me with a notepad with the words "Lula's Shower Gifts" written in flowery script at the top. Call me psychic, but I think I was elected secretary for this little soirée.

My mother handed Lula the top gift from the until now unnoticed gift table with a strained smile. She really wasn't taking the whole armed guard thing very well. The Merry Men actually made a pretty good addition to the party, every time one passed the window conversation stopped as everyone ogled shamelessly. I don't think I've seen a Rangeman employee that didn't have a hard ass and a handsome face. It must be in the contract somewhere. How I got hired there is anyone's guess...well maybe it's better if they don't guess. I do have my reputation to consider. Right.

Lula unwrapped the gift from Ella, a strangely beautiful quilt made from Rangeman t-shirt material and bright, shiny, and occasionally sequined swatches put together in a complex geometric pattern. The housekeeper explained that it was a memory quilt, meant to symbolize the two lives coming together. I wonder if there's something in the water at Rangeman that makes people poetic.

I gave Lula my gift at the stakeout last night. It was a scrapbook with pictures and stories from all the time we've known each other. The first page held a picture taken in the hospital not long after the Ramirez attack. It chronicled her growth from scared ex-prostitute to the confident woman she now is. The last filled pages held a picture of Lula and Tank taken at their engagement party and an extra wedding invitation I managed to sneak. In the picture, Tank's carrying Lula on his back and they're both laughing at something off camera. I've never seen two people look so happy. The rest of the pages were blank, waiting for the wedding, honeymoon, and everything thereafter to fill them with memories.

Being the sensitive soul I am, I dropped the wrapped book on her lap with a murmured 'shower gift' as I got out of the car. I'm pretty sure she opened it. With everything that's been going on we haven't actually talked about it. Probably for the best, neither of us are very good with the whole emotions thing.

Everything was going well until Lula got to the gift from her band mates in The What...and their mascot, Grandma Mazar. No good could come of this unholy team-up. Lula ripped off the wrapping paper with gusto. I didn't realize I'd closed my eyes until a delighted squeal startled them open.

Apparently I wasn't the only one startled, within seconds Lester, Brett, and Zero burst into the room with guns drawn. They kind of resembled Charlie's Angels in a weird, male mercenary sort of way. I decided to keep that observation to myself. They looked a little trigger happy.

When no danger materialized, their eyes settled on me. Why do they always assume it's my fault? Geez. Before I could think of a reasonable explanation, particularly difficult since I had yet to look in the box, Grandma came to my rescue.

"Hot damn! Are you boys the entertainment? I told Ellen we needed strippers!"

Maybe rescue was too strong a word. They looked like they were debating how mad Ranger would REALLY be if they put her out of their misery... and if it just might be worth it. Luckily for all involved, Ranger chose that moment to ghost into the room.

Ranger looked at Farrah, the blond Merry Man formerly known as Brett.

"All clear, sir."

Ranger nodded and looked at the door. The men took their cue, pointedly ignoring the fiver Grandma waved at their backs as they left the room.

"Kill joys."

I tried to smother my grin.

'Ladies.' Ranger acknowledged the room at large. He looked at me. 'Babe.'

The second he was out of sight all eyes swung to Lula and her mysterious box. Her smile lit up the room as she emptied it one item at a time, holding them up for the room's inspection before handing them off to me. First came what looked like a dark red bikini top with tiny silver disks attached across the bottom. They chimed exotically. Then came a neatly folded pile of red gauzy material that shook out into strange pants with similar silver disks around the hips and ankles. There were slits up each pant leg from the top set of disks to the bottom ones. The next items looked a little like gauzy leg warmers, except for the way Lula displayed them they were obviously made for arms. These also had silver disk accents. My arms were overflowing with red fabric by this point. I was pretty sure Lula didn't want everything passed around the room and I knew she didn't want them on the floor; I was just about to panic when Ella handed me the box cover. Ella is a marvel. She helped me refold the items and place them carefully in the cover in reverse order. I never would've thought of that.

I wonder if Ella would be freaked out or flattered if I built her a shrine in Ranger's closet.

Lula continued pulling out items. The veil and silver disk accented headpiece were followed by finger cymbals, incense and _Bellydance Basics and Beyond__1_ on DVD. Just when I thought she was done and the box couldn't possibly contain any more, she pulled out one last scrap of red fabric. This one she spun on her finger before tossing to me. It hit the middle of my chest and fell on my lap. My reflexes need work. It was a thong and it matched the rest of the costume perfectly. Either it came as a set or someone, no doubt my Grandma, spent an awful lot of time comparing shades of red at Victoria's Secret. I decided not to check the tag, it was better not knowing.

The rest of the gifts were opened more or less without incident.

My mother sent me to the kitchen for the spare sandwich platter. I should have seen the trap then but I was too glad the party had returned to normal to think about it. I grabbed the platter and turned to find the door blocked.

"Stephanie Michelle Plum what is going on? Is this because of that murder you were involved in last night? What kind of Bridal Shower includes armed mercenaries?" She paused as we watched a black clad guardian walk by the kitchen window. He paused to nod gravely at us before continuing out of sight. My mother started pacing as she continued. "What are the neighbors going to say? Mrs. Costello never had her house surrounded by mercenaries. I'll never be able to show my face at the Deli again..."

"Mom!" I interrupted before she could work herself into a frenzy. "I wasn't 'involved in' a murder. I'm just a witness! I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It could happen to anyone!"

She looked at me dubiously. I might have been stretching a little with that last bit. Maybe it COULD happen to anyone, but it ALWAYS happened to me. Screwy gypsy luck.

"Really Mom, the neighbors will get over it, they always do." My eye twitched.

"They won't get over it if it doesn't end. And it never ends!"

My eye twitch got worse. "If it ended I'd be dead." At her stricken look I sighed. "Look, I'm not going to pretend there's no danger. But I'm taking precautions and, more importantly, I actually brought in help. Ranger won't let anything happen to me."

"You trust him."

I nodded. It wasn't exactly news. I've been calling Ranger whenever I got in trouble for years. Even my mother was bound to notice eventually, no matter how much she'd rather not. She sighed.

"You're not getting back together with Joe, are you?"

"No. Not this time."

She sighed. "I just want you to be happy."

"I'm getting there."

She seemed to accept that. Some people would have hugged but we really weren't that kind of family, so we just stared into space until the moment passed. Then she picked up the punch bowl and we returned to the party.

We set up the refreshments on the card table in the corner. As Mom fussed with the napkin arrangement, I eavesdropped shamelessly on strange trio sharing the nearby couch.

"Lisa's a beautiful baby, Valerie. Just watch out, this one's going to grow up to be a heart breaker." Ella said, cuddling a for once quiet Lisa to her ample chest.

Valerie's lips curved into her patented Madonna smile. "Thank you."

"Yeah, you're lucky she don't look anything like the Pillsbury Doughboy." Lula chimed in.

Ella gave Lula a confused look. Obviously, Ella hadn't yet had the pleasure of meeting Albert.

Valerie paled noticeably but held on to her serene smile. It could've just been Lula's less then flattering moniker for poor Albert but something about her expression set off my spidey sense. She looked...uncomfortable. Some long buried sisterly instinct drove me to speak.

"Genetics are funny like that sometimes. Remember Mandy Quateraro? She doesn't look much like either of her parents, well maybe a little like her Mom but not at all like her Dad. I mean, she's a natural blond with two dark haired parents. What're the chances of that huh?" It was a babble worthy of the Kloughn but it was the best I could muster on short notice. Everyone seemed to relax a little, except my mother who excused herself to 'check on dessert', her newest euphemism for tippling. Maybe she knows something I don't about good ol' Mandy.

I was asking Mary Lou what she might have heard about Mrs. Quateraro when I felt a disturbance in the force. Well, maybe not the force but the hairs on my arms did stand on end. I looked to the doorway, straight into seductive brown eyes. He tilted his head like he wanted to talk to me. I nodded and turned back to Mary Lou.

"That's creepy." Mary Lou said.

I tried to arch a brow and failed. "What?"

"That weird telepathic conversation thing you guys do. And how'd you know he was there? Your back's to the door. It's just creepy."

I shrugged. It'd be way too hard to explain. And even if I did, it probably wouldn't make sense. As Ranger once said, it is what it is.

I made my way across the room, trying to look casual. By the time I reached him the entire room was watching. I think my acting skills need work.

"What's up?" I asked in a light tone. His fingers skimmed my check was he tucked a stray curl behind my ear. Instead of dropping back to his side, his hand came to rest on my hip. The contact warmed me straight through.

"Might have a lead on the guy you saw."

"Snakeman?"

His lips twitched as he nodded. "Should be gone a couple hours tops. You need anything?"

I skimmed my fingers down the side of his beautiful face, from a thickly arched brow to the pulse point on his smooth muscular neck. I let my fingers linger there, feeling the life beat beneath his skin. "I could think of a few things."

His eyebrows shot up. Batman looked a little off balance. Good. He cleared his throat and said in a husky tone, "I meant from the store Babe."

I let the moment pass, I didn't want to scare the poor man away after all.

"You're offering to run to the store for me and all my girl friends? Brave man." I teased.

He shrugged. "If you ask for anything too outrageous I'll send Tank."

"Ooh he is due some payback for this morning." I thought for a moment, but came up blank. "Maybe some other time. The party's winding down."

He pulled me towards him, into the shadowed hallway. His lips brushed mine lightly before pulling back. He looked at me for a moment. Whatever he saw made him mutter something in Spanish then he was kissing me again, this time with tongue. He pulled back again, pausing when I didn't let go.

"Babe." His tone was an odd mix of exasperated, amused, and aroused. It was sexy as hell. I unwrapped myself from him slowly, copping a quick feel as I went. From his muted growl I think he noticed. "Go back to your party before I do something your mother really won't forgive you for."

I took one step back before the devil in me just had to ask, "And what would that be?"

His eyes darkened. "Careful, Babe."

I shivered and closed my eyes as he ran a finger along my jaw. When I opened them again he was gone. Neat trick. One of these days I should ask him exactly how he knows Diesel. Or not. I'm not sure I want to know.

I took a moment to catch my breath before rejoining the party.

Sally ambushed me as I walked back into the room. "What's, like, fucking going on with you and Ranger?"

Oh crap. I checked the hallway for any sign of my stealth boyfriend. I didn't see him, big surprise. He was stealth in more ways than one. I played it cool, shrugging casually. "We're just very good friends, who sometimes make out in hallways. And don't do relationships. Nothing to worry about."

Sally looked unconvinced. "Just be fucking careful, you know? He's cool shit and I owe him for that fucking Slayer thing. It'd fucking suck to have to take him down."

The likelihood of Sally taking down Ranger was pretty much nonexistent but the sentiment was nice. It's good to have friends, even crazy ones.

Coats were found, goodbyes were said, and soon the only guests left were Ella and Lula. The girls got a thrill out of being escorted to their cars individually by the armed guard of their choice. I saw Connie tuck a business card in Cal's pocket. Either she was giving him her phone number or advertising for Vinnie's business. I'm assuming the former but with Ranger's guys you never know. Anyone who spent time with Lester was bound to need a bail bondsman sooner or later.

In almost no time I found myself stationed at a suds filled sink. The downside to throwing a party, even by proxy, is the inevitable cleanup. And the better the party the worse the cleanup. There's a rule somewhere. While I washed dishes I checked myself out in the over sink window. Night had fallen soon after the last guests left, giving me a nice mirror to make faces at to alleviate my boredom. I was just on my favorite, my award-winning impression of Mrs. Whitmore, the strict and always sour looking 6th grade teacher, when the kitchen door opened.

"I don't know what you're doing, but could you please stop?" Tank said with an almost straight face. "You're distracting the guys."

I looked back at my mirror window. It probably looked like a TV from the outside. Great. I covered my face with my hands, trying out the old if I can't see them they can't see me theory. Of course, I couldn't see them to begin with, so it was doubly futile. I did manage to get a face full of suds, though.

It just wasn't my night.

Tank had the good grace to hand me a towel. I dried my face my great dignity, somehow managing to flip everyone off repeatedly in the process. It's a Jersey skill. I was just completing my performance when something caught my eye. It was shiny and red and on the window screen. A chill went through me. It was Not Right. I looked closer. There was a trail of shiny red drops starting midway up the window and disappearing off the bottom.

I grabbed the nearest weapon and headed for the door. Tank eyed my defensively held spatula and determined expression. He didn't ask questions, just pulled his gun and followed cautiously. Lula did well for herself with this one.

We crept out the kitchen door and examined my mother's prized hedges like we expected it to attack. As we neared the window I slowed. My stomach lurched. Something stuck out of the bushes, something red. The same red I saw from the window. Call me an optimist, I thought it might be a glove. Denial is my friend. Of course the glove theory didn't explain the dripping. It was a slow drip, like condensation from a Coke can. Except thicker. I really didn't want to think about it too closely. Against my will, I leaned closer, following the attached arm to the rest of the body. The face was half hidden in the bushes but instantly recognizable.

It was Snakeman and he was very, very dead.

My gaze drifted of its own accord to the mess that was once his torso. I stumbled back, falling against something big and warm. Tank.

"Why me?" I asked the universe. After waiting a moment for an answer that didn't come, not that I was really expecting one, I let Tank lead me inside.

And to think, I was worried about the party.

1Actually exists, /boutique.html. I have it, it's awesome. I thought Lula would like it ;)


End file.
